randomWalks

In a poem, one line may hide another line,
As at a crossing, one train may hide another train.
That is, if you are waiting to cross
The tracks, wait to do it for one moment at
Least after the first train is gone. And so when you read
Wait until you have read the next line--
Then it is safe to go on reading.
In a family one sister may conceal another,
So, when you are courting, it's best to have them all in view
Otherwise in coming to find one you may love another.
One father or one brother may hide the man,
If you are a woman, whom you have been waiting to love.
So always standing in front of something the other
As words stand in front of objects, feelings, and ideas.
One wish may hide another. And one person's reputation may hide
The reputation of another. One dog may conceal another
On a lawn, so if you escape the first one you're not necessarily safe;
One lilac may hide another and then a lot of lilacs and on the Appia Antica one tomb
May hide a number of other tombs.

Kenneth Koch, one of my favorite poets, died of leukemia Saturday. Along with John Ashbery, Frank O'Hara and James Schuyler, Koch was a member of the New York School. His poetry is funny, surreal and heartfelt. NPR's Robert Siegel read Koch's "Variations on a Theme by William Carlos Williams" in memoriam. Here's the NYT obit, which informs us:

He and his contemporaries — the poets John Ashbery and Frank O'Hara and the painters Jane Freilicher and Larry Rivers — took up the brash, anti-establishment mantle of their beatnik predecessors, but with a more classically European touch and with less machismo and facial hair.

More:

• Interview with Koch
• From "On Aesthetics"
• On PBS's NewsHour